Two sides to Everything
by VulcanCheesecake
Summary: This is quite a long, chapterised fic, full of mansmecks and ups and downs and even transvestisism. Inspired by "Breakfast on Pluto" some of this!
1. Escape

Jonathan Crane sighed. He sat alone in his cell in Arkham Asylum for Insane Criminals. He used to run this place. He used to sit in the office along the corridor. The one he hung pictures of his favourite inmates on the walls. The ones he had liked. He had hung a picture of the Batman on the wall too, when he first started selling his fear-inducing drugs to other criminals. He had taped a little notice to the underside of his desk, where nobody could see it, with an arrow pointing to the pictures of the handsome inmates. The notice read: "I would if I could." Now the once renowned psychiatric doctor sat alone in a cell, wearing a vulgar orange suit. Since his capture, his bright turquoise eyes, with the red glint in them had faded slightly and glazed over, his once shining brown hair had become dull and greasy, his handsome cheekbones stuck out more from his skull, and his face had become pale. His voice grew slightly hoarse. He would give anything to be out of here. i_Anything_/i.

A cold draught blew under the crack in Jonathan's cell door. It chilled his already cold skin. He shivered and drew his knees closer to his body. To take his mind off his current predicament, he began to sing softly, a song he had known before he was locked up, a song he wanted to hear again: "Your pictures are there…you left behind…all just me-mo-ries of a different life, something made us laugh…something made us cry…what then made you…have to say goodbye-eye? What I'd give to run my fingers, through your hair, to touch your lips, to hold you near…when you say your prayers try to understand…I made mistakes…I'm just a man…and I will love you ba-by…Always….Always!" As he sang, his voice got louder, and some of the inmates laughed, still others joined in the singing. Jonathan stopped, embarrassed, and a pinkish tinge crept up his thin cheeks.

He sat silently for another hour, before going to bed.

He was woken by the usual moans and screams that started every day. It was partly his fault that there were so many screams. His drugs made people see what they feared most. It worked well until one of the Batman's people developed an antidote, and he was caught. He sighed again, desperately unhappy. He i _needed_/i to get out of here. He knew he faced a long slow death if he did not. He didn't get up from his bed for four hours, and when he did resumed his position in the middle of the floor. The guards came round with breakfast at half past seven as usual, and came back an hour later to remove the empty plates. Jonathan had forced himself to eat something, even if it almost made him sick again. He felt sure something was wrong with him, but he was ignored like everybody else in Arkham. i_Surely_/i it hadn't been like this when he was running the place? Oh yes, yes it had, thought Jonathan, regret stabbing at his stomach, making him feel sick again. A sudden scraping noise cut into the dark silence of Jonathan's cell. The lock was being pushed aside. Why would the guards come back so soon? Jonathan saw a blinding square of light and a figure was pushed roughly into the small room, knocking Jonathan, who had stood up, over. His thin body hit the ground hard and fast, and the blow to his head rendered him unconscious.

Jonathan Crane slowly opened his eyes. He knew he would have some new bruises, to go with his multicoloured body. The lack of decent food weakened him, and the guards often liked to beat up the inmates. The corrupted guards liked the pretty boys too. The room was fuzzy, and he wondered why it wasn't adjusting into focus. He realised that it was because he hadn't got his glasses on. He sincerely hoped they were not broken, because if they were he had no chance of getting another pair, and if he asked the guards would hurl abuse at him and the "punishments" they were fond of dishing out would be worse. They probably wouldn't even bother to use spit. Jonathan felt around on the floor around him as far as his arms could reach. His fingers only touched the bare stone floor of his cell. A blurred face swam into view. "Looking for these?" asked his new cellmate, dangling Jonathan's spectacles above his head. Jonathan snatched them from him and shoved them onto his eyes. "Thanks," he muttered, scowling. "What's with the face hm?" asked the intruder "Am I taking over your own little cell hm? Well, I'm not here by choice exactly am I?" Jonathan nodded. "Yeah, sorry. It _is _getting a little crowded in this place. I figured I'd have to end up sharing at some point. I'm Dr Jonathan Crane…well i_Ex_/i Doctor Jonathan Crane. I'm hardly a doctor of psychiatry while I'm locked up in a nuthouse."

"And i_why_/i are you locked in a nuthouse?"

"I was the Scarecrow. Scare being the operative word. I gave people drugs that showed them what they feared the most. _But_ the bat got me, so here I am."

"Interesting Johnny." A flicker of annoyance stung Jonathan at being called "Johnny". It was a nickname he hated. "I'm the Joker. No real name. The bat got me too, but it's okay. I'll get out of here in a while. I killed a heck of a lot of people." Jonathan shuddered. He might inflict fear on somebody, which might eventually kill them, and was possibly crueller than killing them, but he could not bear the thought of himself physically taking another person's life. He took a good look at his new cellmate. His face was painted white, with bright red lips and cheeks, covering two long, raised scars that ran almost to his ears, and black around his eyes. The scars fascinated Jonathan and he reached out absentmindedly to touch them. He stroked the raised skin on the Joker's face for about ten seconds before he realised what he had been doing. He looked at the Joker's puzzled and slightly taken aback expression and snatched his hand away. The Joker grabbed his skinny wrist, jerking it a little too hard and making Jonathan cry out in pain. "I'm sorry. Not sure what came over me," Jonathan stammered, squeezing his eyes shut, bracing himself. The Joker looked even more taken aback and let go of Jonathan's wrist. He looked up and down Jonathan's skinny frame. "Don't feed you too well in this place, do they hm? I mean I thought i_I_/iwas a skinny guy, but next to you, I'm practically a bodybuilder!"

Jonathan's cheeks went pink again; he didn't like people talking about how small he was. The two men kept talking for a long time, finding nothing else to do in the desolate asylum, and finding that they had a lot in common. For the first time in a year, Jonathan Crane had a friend.

The door opened again at lunchtime, and two guards came in. One set two bowls of tomato soup and two bread rolls on the cell's small table. "You ask for better food Crane, here it is," growled the other guard, who was clearly in charge. "But you know nothing comes for free, don't you? Time for me to collect my…i_payment_/i for this favour."

"Oh come on," begged Jonathan, "not now. It's only soup…" it was no use. A big hand muffled his pleas, and the other hand of the guard shoved the back of the bottom half of his suit down. "No! Please!" Jonathan tried to protest, but the hand began to squeeze his jaw, silencing his obscured cries further. Then the guard was roughly inside him; the pain drawing salty tears from his eyes, which were firmly squeezed shut. He still tried to cry out, and struggled against the weight of the guard, making the pain worse, and adding more as the guard slammed Jonathan's head roughly onto the metal frame of his bed, giving him a black eye. The ordeal seemed to last forever, though in reality it was only ten minutes. Finally the guard released Jonathan, who dropped into a heap on the floor, still half naked and attempting to stop the shivering that violently shook his small body. The guards both laughed and stomped out of the cell, slamming the door shut, muttering "Pathetic," at Jonathan.

After a while, Jonathan got himself together enough to make himself decent, and picked himself up. He went to sit at the table and ate his bowl of soup, the hand holding the spoon still shaking violently. He managed half of his soup before he had to dash to the lavatory bowl in the far corner of the room to vomit. He felt a little better afterwards, and went to eat the rest of his soup, barely registering the flavour through the bitter taste in the back of his throat. The Joker had watched all of this while eating his own soup, sitting on Jonathan's bed cross legged, laughing a little at seeing someone in pain. He couldn't really help it, pain made him laugh. But part of him felt bad for the beautiful young man he had the luck to be sharing with. He even felt a twinge of jealousy when the guard raped him. Not that he wanted to be raped, though he was sure his turn would come soon enough, and that he could bear it better. "You okay?" he asked Jonathan when he had finished his soup. "I'm fine," Jonathan replied quietly, pink creeping up his cheeks again. "We're going to have to share this bed you know," announced the Joker, his voice seeming much louder next to his cellmate's. "It's fine," sighed Jonathan, "I'll sleep on the floor." The Joker shook his head.

"It doesn't mean anything, Johnny. You'll freeze on the floor. I don't mind." Jonathan nodded his thanks and went to sit on his bed next to the Joker. He winced as he sat on the sore parts of his lower body. The two men talked late into the night, and lay down together, top and tail, Jonathan perfectly still, trying not to put any pressure on any of his bruises.

The Joker was woken up after only a couple of hours sleep, by Jonathan twitching, kicking and yelling. The Joker got to his knees on the bed and held Jonathan down by his shoulders, saying into his ear "It's all right Johnny, all right. Sh sh sh…" as if he was a small child. After a few minutes, Jonathan stopped convulsing, and rolled over on to his side, sleeping with no dream again. Did he realise he physically moved through his bad dreams? The Joker wondered. It was no surprise really that he had terrible nightmares, after the way he was treated in this place, not to mention the entire atmosphere of the place itself.

When the Joker woke up, the bed was empty. Jonathan was sat in the middle of the floor again, this time reading a book. His eyes were red-rimmed behind his glasses and his cheeks still shone a little, after the usual "payment" for privileges such as books, from handsome young men like him. The Joker didn't think the older or overweight or uglier inmates had to go through treatment like this when they wanted something they were actually entitled to. "What time is it?" asked the Joker sleepily. "Eight O'clock. Your breakfast's on the table," replied Jonathan, his voice still a thick. It must have been a very rough time. "Thanks. You okay?" the Joker asked again. "Not really," was the reply. "I have to get out of here." Jonathan looked up, his eyes pleading with the Joker. "I can't take any more." Fresh tears ran down his thin cheeks. "You said you were going to get out of here. Please, do it soon and take me with you. I'll do anything! i_Anything_/i. I have no money, but you can share my house with me."

"Ah." The Joker smiled an evil smile. Though he liked Jonathan Crane, he was still sadistic. "I'll decide when we're out of here. I'll take some sort of ah…ipayment/i." He stressed the last word as the guards did. "But we'll get out, i_Johnny_/i_._" Jonathan swallowed nervously, and his eyes became fearful. But surely anything was better than this place. He nodded and wiped his eyes. "Okay. We'll do it i_now_/i_,_" grinned the Joker. Pretend to be seriously ill, in more pain than you are." Jonathan nodded again, and began to yell, his cries strangely genuine. Two different guards came to the door. "What's up with him?" shouted the first one over Jonathan's screaming. "I don't know," shouted back the Joker in a panicked voice. "He just collapsed and started yelling!" Hearing this, Jonathan began to convulse violently. The other guard ran to get a doctor, as the first one opened the door and bent over Jonathan. The Joker came up from behind and stabbed the guard with a knife he had concealed in his underwear, tied to his thigh where it could not be felt. Jonathan was slightly sickened at this, but got up quickly. The Joker grabbed his wrist painfully tightly again, and began to run with him. "Come on Johnny, i_faster!_/i We don't have much time!" Jonathan forced his feet to move faster, his blood pounding in his head, his breath coming in gasps, ripping at his lungs, his legs becoming excruciatingly painful; he hadn't run like this ever, and he hadn't run at all since he had been put in Arkham. He had been there for just over a year.

The Joker led them to the end of the corridor their cell was in, ignoring the stares of the other inmates as they ran along. They reached the fire door at the end, which, luckily, was never locked because the inmates could never get out, never take on the guards, who were the toughest and nastiest in the business. They burst out into the fresh air, the cold hitting Jonathan like a knife. They ran around the back of the building as the escaped convict alarms sounded across Gotham City, and into its maze of alleys and side streets. The Joker led Jonathan to a derelict looking building on the outskirts of Gotham, and took the key from the hanging plant basket that dangled to the left of the door. He put it in the lock and opened the door. He locked it behind them, leading Jonathan upstairs into a bedroom with one double bed standing in the middle. "Sorry, that's all I have. We'll have to share again. I suggest you get some rest Johnny. You look terrible. And I would take the orange suit off; it's filthy, makes you instantly recognisable and won't do much in the way of keeping you warm." The Joker dug around in his old cupboard and brought out a purple shirt. "My only spare," He said, passing it to Jonathan, who took the suit off as he had been asked, and collapsed onto the Joker's bed, wearing his underwear and the clean shirt, only half buttoned. The Joker pulled the thin duvet over Jonathan, and lay down beside him.

In the night he had rolled over, and draped his arm over Jonathan. Jonathan woke up first, and was unsure whether to move. The Joker woke up soon afterwards, removed his arm without a word, and wandered into the bathroom. Jonathan sat up and began to look at his body, to examine fully his injuries in the full light of the room. He removed the Joker's shirt and hung it on the handle of the wardrobe door. He winced as he touched all of his bruises and grazes. He sensed someone looking at him, and spun around abruptly. The Joker was stood in the doorway, looking at him approvingly. Jonathan gasped and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide his nakedness. The Joker shook his head and walked over to Jonathan, pulling him close, trying not to touch his sore parts. When Jonathan was in his arms, he pressed hard on a large bruise on Jonathan's back, making him cry out in pain. The Joker closed his eyes at the sound. "Now, about the trade off for me getting you out of there…" he said, "It will require i_payment_/i." He firmly manipulated Jonathan so he was on his hands and knees on the bed, before kneeling behind him and bending over his body, gently kissing the bruise between his shoulder blades, caressing Jonathan's matted hair. The Joker straightened up again, and gently pushed the back of Jonathan's boxer shorts down. He undid the buckle on his own trousers, and entered Jonathan as gently as possible, using up a small tub of lip salve to help him. Jonathan still cried out in pain, but stopped himself, and braced his body. "No it's okay," whispered the Joker. "Try and enjoy this. Make as much noise as you want." Jonathan nodded, tears squeezing from his eyes again, as the Joker moved, and uttering little barks of pain whenever the Joker prodded one of his bruises, and grabbed his shoulders roughly. He gasped, half in pain, half in pleasure as the Joker began to move back and forth in a grotesque rhythm, changing speeds. Jonathan could not stop the tears though; they were an unstoppable reaction to this kind of pain. It was finally over, but Jonathan still throbbed, and the tears still fell. The Joker gently pulled Jonathan up and turned him so they were face to face. Jonathan tried to look away, embarrassed, but the Joker turned his head back again, wiping the salt water away with his fingertips and stroking Jonathan's cheek, kissing them gently. Jonathan moved forward, and kissed the Joker's lips, the face paint tasting oily, the scars rough when the Joker moved slightly. Jonathan pushed his head forward as he kissed, making them fall from the edge of the bed, the fall broken by the soft rug. The Joker was underneath Jonathan, but twisted them round so he was looking down at Jonathan. He kissed first the skin of Jonathan's bare chest, and then his lips, raking his fingers through Jonathan's tangled hair, making his mouth twitch when he pulled at a knot. They stayed there like that for a long time. Afterwards they climbed back onto the bed and under the covers, Jonathan resting his head on the Joker's chest, closing his eyes, breathing softly. "Are we square now Joker?" He whispered. The Joker stroked his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbones. "If I say yes, will you still stay here?"

"Of course I will."

"Yes then." Jonathan Crane fell asleep soon afterwards, and stayed quiet until he woke up.


	2. Lady

Jonathan Crane woke up, the Joker's arms still around him. Neither of them had moved, but had slept through the whole day. It was now half past eight at night. Jonathan lay there, breathing in his lover's scent, enjoying the feeling of the strong arms that held him. He was there for perhaps, ten minutes before the Joker woke up and removed his arms, stretching and getting up from the bed, shattering Jonathan's peace and idle fantasies. The Joker went to the almost empty, battered cupboard that was their wardrobe, and put on what he always wore, a purple suit with a green waistcoat, but, because they were only inside he left off the waistcoat and long purple overcoat. "Now," he announced. "Johnny. You're going to need some _stuff_ aren't you hm? But to go out on the streets looking like you do will just get you locked up again. You're going to have to go out in _disguise_." The Joker grinned, showing most of his straight yellow teeth, looking decidedly wolfish to Jonathan. "Now," continued the Joker, in a sickly sweet voice, "I've had a few _ideas_."  
"Like?"  
"You have to trust me on this one okay?"  
"Okay, just go on."  
"You might not like it."  
"Just get on with it"  
"We make you up like a woman. There. That's my Idea." Jonathan stared at the Joker, his mouth slightly open, speechless. Finally, all he could manage was "What?!"  
"No, listen," continued the Joker. "You go out; all made up, completely unrecognisable, and get away with anything. Well, within reason." Jonathan still looked speechless.  
"You want to go hungry and naked for the next few months? Stay in here? You might as well go back to Arkham." Jonathan shuddered at the name.  
"_No_. I am _not_ going back there. I'll dress up for to get us some stuff and for that _only_. No fetishes or fantasies Joker, I mean it."  
"Good boy _Johnny_, I knew you'd come round to my way of thinking eventually. You can go out tomorrow morning; the shops'll all be shut now. Let me see what I've got…"

The Joker rooted around in drawers and cupboards for half an hour before calling one of his thugs and getting him to break into a boutique, telling him to get what he asked for, no questions, and he could loot himself all he wanted. Then he went to meet the thug on a street corner. Jonathan went round the rest of the house, wrinkling his nose a little at the smell coming from the kitchen he didn't _want_ to investigate. He went back to the bedroom, and waited on the bed. He dozed some more, and was woken up again by being hit by a bundle of clothes. "Take your pick," laughed the Joker. Jonathan grabbed the first few items that came to hand, and yanked them on, glaring at the Joker, who tried to look serious, but burst into a fit of giggles when he saw Jonathan. Jonathan looked in the mirror and saw a skinny, pale young man in ridiculous drag looking back at him. "Hmm…needs something a little more. You still look like a man. A _gorgeous_ man though," purred the Joker, coming up behind Jonathan and sliding his arms around Jonathan's shoulders, dragging him to the bathroom and turning on the ancient shower. "I'm going to make you a bona fide lady," smiled the Joker, pulling the tank top over Jonathan's head and pushing down the short skirt he wore. He gently pushed Jonathan backwards into the shower, jumping in after him, fully clothed. "This is going to be _fun_," he whispered. Jonathan rolled his eyes, but couldn't resist the Joker for long, pulling him close and kissing him under the jets of water, enjoying the feeling of the Joker's wet clothes against his skin. "Come on Johnny, you've got to be _clean_ to be a lady," grinned the Joker, brandishing a sponge and scrubbing Jonathan roughly, leaving him with red patches all over his body. "Ouch, Joker does everything you do have to be so rough?" he complained. The Joker silenced him and pushed him out of the shower, throwing him a towel to dry himself. Jonathan dried himself off, and went to put his boxer shorts back on. The Joker stopped him, handing him something lacy instead. "Wait…but…What?! You cannot be asking me to wear this! Nobody is going to see my underwear!" he protested.  
"You're dressing up as a _lady_ Johnny. And it's got to be _convincing_." Laughed the Joker. Jonathan scowled and pulled the garment on. "Good boy," the Joker repeated. "Now sit," he smiled, gesturing to the bath mat. Jonathan sat, cursing himself for obeying the dog like commands. "I wish you wouldn't talk to me like that," he began, but he stopped when he saw and felt the Joker rubbing something up and down his legs. "What are you doing _now?_" he sighed. The Joker just giggled, and gripped Jonathan's hand.  
"Hold tight!" The Joker suddenly ripped a wax strip off Jonathan's leg, making him yell and dig his nails into the back of the Joker's hand. "No more!" Stammered Jonathan, but it was too late. The Joker ripped four more strips from Jonathan's legs before he was finished. "Women must feel no pain," gasped Jonathan.  
"Oh, you'll live Johnny," whispered the Joker, stroking his lover's new smooth legs. "Lucky your chest is so smooth hm?" he asked, sliding his arms around it. Jonathan pushed him off, not in the mood to be sweet talked.  
"Alright, alright. Time to get _dressed_," the Joker announced, standing up, and pulling Jonathan up with him. He delved into the pile of women's clothes left on their bed, and pulled out a bra. He looked at it; one eyebrow raised, and said "Might as well go for it," before strapping it around Jonathan's skinny chest. "Suits you darling," smiled the Joker, trying to lighten Jonathan up, and failing. Jonathan went over to the pile of clothes and selected a short black skirt and sparkly pink top, before putting on a fluffy cardigan, his mood lifting. "It's cold out you know," he said irritably when the Joker stared. He put his feet into a pair of black kitten heels, and stood and inch taller than his lover. He walked over to the mirror after taking a tube of lipstick and some eyeliner from the pile, enjoying the feeling of making himself up, not noticing the stare. He carefully combed his long brown hair that was almost shoulder length now, applied the lipstick and eyeliner and turned around. "Well, what do you think?" he asked, carefully raising his voice an octave without it sounding like he was putting on a silly voice. "You look like a woman. And that isn't a compliment," growled the Joker, who had thought that Jonathan had enjoyed this a little too much. The Joker threw Jonathan a bundle of money, "If you want to buy anything, you'll need this, _doll_," he sneered. Jonathan tossed his hair and clacked out of the house.

Jonathan tapped his way along the streets of Gotham, enjoying the cool wind on his bare legs, and the soothing rhythm of his high heels against the pavement. He had enjoyed getting ready; it excited him, like he had somewhere to go. He stopped to get them some food first, prioritising. He wandered over to the freezer cabinet in the supermarket, found himself idly fantasising about what he could do with the ice cream when something inside him grew ashamed. He was enjoying being a woman, but he was a man. Who liked other men, like a woman. But only whores did kinky things with ice cream didn't they? Well he wasn't a whore, and he wanted to try for a little more dominance, wasn't going to let the Joker walk all over him for ever. He silenced the little voice in his head and quickly dropped a tub of ice cream in his basket, tapping off quickly as he could in heels, trying his hardest to keep his back straight, head up. He paid for his groceries and thanked the young assistant in his politest voice. The teenage boy looked at him, his mouth open. Jonathan winked cheekily at him, and flounced off, deliberately wiggling his hips, feeling the stare of the boy at his legs. Oh Hell. He was a _man_. No, he convinced himself. He was just getting in character; he couldn't be recognised as Jonathan Crane, escaped convict. He looked at his watch: plenty of time before the Joker would expect him back. He giggled to himself and tapped off to a clothes shop.

He wandered into the ladies department, admiring the pretty things on sale. Surely the Joker wouldn't notice if he bought only one or two things? He needed some clothes anyway. With a sigh, he wandered off to the Men's department, not really registering what he was buying, jeans, shirts, underwear, and hurried back to the womenswear. He deliberated before choosing some skinny fit jeans, only guessing at what size he could wear, not really making sense of the way the clothes were sized. A sudden though hit Jonathan. _He could try as much on as he wanted!_ Taking size 10s, he took the jeans, some blouses, skirts and t shirts to the changing rooms, spotting a rail of dresses on his way, and grabbing a handful of those too. He tried his clothes on, knowing he could not hide all he tried, finally choosing only the jeans, a skirt, a pink blouse and a knee length red dress with ruffles around the neckline to take. But he could not resist walking through the lingerie department on his way to the checkout. He bought a bright red lacy underwear set, and some strange gel things to stick in it, to give him the illusion of B cup breasts under his clothes. Jonathan cursed himself, and went from lingerie to jewellery, buying sparkly necklaces and earrings, hoping to pierce his ears. It shouldn't be too hard. He was about to finally go to the tills, when something caught his eye. A curly blonde wig. It looked so real, and would complete his outfits. He politely asked an assistant if he may have it, and almost skipped to the tills. He paid for his items, and went into a shoe shop on the way back, feeling like a real woman, shopping like this. He bought two pairs of shoes, some heeled, yet comfortable boots and a pair of sparkly, strappy killer heels. Jonathan checked the time again, and realised how late he was. The sky was darkening he noticed, quickening his step and checking around him. He walked past a shop selling make up, and couldn't resist. He tested a few lipsticks quickly, and got some mascara, and several different colours of eye shadow and nail varnish. He paid and the young girl serving him asked if he would like to apply for a job in the shop, seeing as he had a pretty face to model the makeup, and they were short staffed. Jonathan's heart leapt. "That would be lovely, I think I need a new job," he trilled. "Great," smiled the girl. "I'm Pippa; can I just take your name and number please?"  
"I'm…" Jonathan thought for a moment. "Jennifer. Jennifer Heron."  
"Phone number?"  
"Oh, I only have a mobile." He gave her his number.  
"Great, we'll be in touch." Jonathan nodded and smiled,  
"I'm sorry, I have to go. My boyfriend will be worried about me," he shouted over his shoulder as he clicked and clacked out of the shop, the euphoria of the day dulling the pain of the blisters he was acquiring, and the wires of the bra cutting into his chest. The beats of his shoes sped up as he rushed to get home.

Jonathan was almost there when he felt a hand tap his shoulder. He spun round and looked into the deep black of a hooded jacket. He squealed in surprise and fear, and again as he was shoved p against a wall. "Looks like you had a good time lady," growled a voice from deep within the hood. "Where's your purse then?"  
"N…No! Don't hurt me!" squeaked Jonathan.  
"Oh don't worry precious, I won't hurt you. Not if you work _with_ me," snarled Jonathan's attacker, grabbing at his thigh, fingers pressing right into the skin. The man's other hand clamped over Jonathan's mouth, and it reminded him of his time in Arkham. Had it only been two days since he was last raped? The whole new experience had made him almost forget about that. Jonathan twisted his head, painfully jerking his neck. "Help!" he shrieked into the night.

A sudden rustling noise above them made both Jonathan and his attacker look up. Before either could react, a figure dropped into the alley and pulled Jonathan's attacker off him, knocking him out with a few punches. Jonathan gathered up his bags and started to walk away before he was recognised, but all of a sudden the Batman was in front of him. "Little late for you to be out isn't it?" he asked in his strange, hollow voice. "You ought to be careful, good looking woman out alone at night. You know what _this_ city's like."  
"Yes," said Jonathan, working hard to make his voice convincing. "I lost track of the time. I'm on my way home. Thank you for saving me!" He blushed and hurried off.

He got halfway down the next street when he felt his shoes. He took them off, shoved them in one of his bags, and ran to where he lived, quietly opening the door and hiding the bags full of women's clothes under the large broken floorboard he had discovered, taking care to wrap all of it up well, so it wouldn't get dirty. He made as much noise on the stairs as he could, to announce his arrival. He went to the bedroom, the main room, and opened the door. He jumped a little when he came face to face with the Joker, His face was livid. "Where the _hell_ have you been Johnny?! I thought the Bat had got you or something. It shouldn't take you long to get a few clothes and some food! Where's the rest of the money?!" Jonathan had spent it all.  
"I was mugged on the way back. I'm so sorry. Lost track of time." He couldn't quite get out of being a woman.  
"Stop it with the voice Johnny, I mean it."  
Jonathan cleared his throat and forced his voice to its normal pitch. "Sorry. I'll just go put this away," he said, gesturing to the bags. The Joker nodded, and Jonathan put his clothes in the wardrobe.  
"What did you get to eat?" asked the Joker. Without waiting for an answer he picked up the bags with food in and went through. "Ice Cream?"  
Jonathan smiled. "Couldn't resist!"  
The Joker rolled his eyes. "Okay then, go put it away and get a spoon." Jonathan winked and padded down to the kitchen in his bare feet. The smell was gone; the Joker had obviously been doing a little bit of cleaning. Jonathan laughed at the thought. He did as he was told, and took the tub and two spoons up to bed. He sat on the edge of their bed, and the Joker slid his arms around him again. "Sorry I was angry, J," he purred. "I love you, you know. I was worried."  
"I know Joker. I'm sorry for staying out so late. I just loved being out there."  
"Yeah. You can go out whenever you want now you know, I saw the news. All day. Zilch about us. They're keeping it quiet."  
"Really? That's good news."  
"You smell nice…"  
"I'm wearing perfume remember?" Jonathan giggled, kissing his lover. Joker kissed back, but after a minute broke away.  
"So _that's_ what it feels like, kissing somebody with lipstick on!" Jonathan just giggled at this. Joker pulled off Jonathan's skirt and top, and quickly undid his bra, stroking the red marks it left. He turned Jonathan over, but Jonathan stopped him.  
"Sorry. I don't feel like it tonight."  
Joker looked confused.  
"I was raped enough in Arkham and I was mugged today. Please, give me a break."  
The Joker nodded, looking a little disappointed. Both turned away, and tried to fall asleep, leaving the tub of Ice cream to melt on the floor.


	3. Lies

Turned to face the window in the medium sized room, Jonathan Crane tried to sleep. Pressed against his back was his boyfriend, the Joker. Words his lover had spoken went round and round his head. _"You can go out whenever you want now…" _He remembered the feeling of dressing like a woman, the freedom it brought, the small thrill of making yourself pretty. But most of all he remembered how he had been noticed. The accepting smiles of the other women, the approving stares of the men. He wanted to feel like that more often. He wanted to feel _himself…_Or herself. Then the reality hit Jonathan. He was a man. Who wanted to go out every day made up like a woman. What would Joker do if he ever found out? Jonathan shuddered at the thought. He would be left alone. Possibly even hurt or killed by the one he loved. There was no telling what the Joker might do if he got angry. But what if his lover never knew? What if Jonathan only told him half the truth? That he was going out to a job. Which he was, but it was in a shop selling make up, and he was offered the job when he went in to buy make up. As a woman.

Jonathan stayed there, arguing with himself in his head, before getting out of bed quietly as it began to get light, and turning on the shower. He crept downstairs and took his new clothes from underneath the broken floorboard in the hall, carrying them back up to the bathroom and locking the door. His legs were still smooth from yesterday, so he didn't need to do anything with them. He climbed into the shower scrubbing every inch of himself, trying to completely scrub away the old Jonathan Crane, even though, as a psychiatric doctor, he told himself he was being stupid. He stepped out of the shower and shook his head, spotting the mirror with tiny water droplets. He dried off and tried on his new underwear, avoiding looking at _that_ part of his body, pulling on a skirt and blouse, admiring himself in the spotted mirror, sticking out his chest and admiring his thin legs. He smiled to himself and scraped his long hair to the top of his head, securing it with an elastic band and pulling the blonde wig on top. Good, none of his dark hairs had escaped, and the effect was very convincing. Jonathan leant close into the mirror, and applied his mascara and lipstick, practising his flirting, winking and smiling at his reflection. He sat on the toilet lid and painted his nails a pearly pink colour, to match his blouse. He crept downstairs, taking care to be quiet so he didn't wake the Joker. He scribbled a little note saying he had gone out for the day and taped it to the fridge, before putting a jacket on, picking up his shoes and slipping out of the house, putting the kitten heels on in the street.

The day was cold; Jonathan felt goosebumps up and down his bare legs. He tapped along the quiet streets, waving at the people who were just opening their shops for business. Some waved back, but some just blanked him or turned away. Though he had had no call from the shop he was offered work in, he went over there anyway. The girl he had met yesterday was just unlocking the doors. She smiled when she saw him. "Come back have you? Job's yours, I'll show you how it's done," she said, beckoning Jonathan inside. For the next half hour, she showed him how to work the tills, told him what to say to customers and what his hours were, and how much he would be paid. "Okay, let's go!" Pippa smiled, turning the sign on the door round to open. She threw Jonathan a shirt with the shop's logo on the breast pocket. "Quickly put this on," she said. "I'll get a badge for you soon Jennifer. Is it Jennifer or Jenny?"

"Umm...Whichever. Jennifer is fine." Jonathan turned his back to his new friend as he took of his blouse and put the shop uniform on, carefully hiding his armpits which were not shaved, and hiding his chest, so she wouldn't see he wasn't really a woman. He pulled the uniform on and turned back.

Five minutes later, customers started coming into the shop. Jonathan was polite, and the customers liked him. He sold make up for the next few hours, enjoying being busy, and being regarded as a lady, but finally his stomach rumbled. He giggled and announced he was going on his lunch break. Jonathan flounced out of the shop, tossing his blonde curls and heading for the high street. He had taken a little money from the pile the Joker kept in the room. He did seem to have rather a lot. A sudden thought hit Jonathan. He hadn't brought any men's clothes! He couldn't go back home looking like this! He had to go and get some. He went to the boutique he had gone to yesterday and went to menswear. He quickly decided on a pink t shirt and jeans, as ladylike as possible. On his way to the tills, Jonathan turned his head to admire some necklaces, and didn't look where he was going. He didn't see the man in front of him till it was too late. He bumped straight into him, almost falling over, but the stranger caught him by the wrist. "Are you okay?" asked a concerned voice. "Oh, yes I'm fine thank you. I'm sorry, it was my fault, not looking where I was going," stammered Jonathan, blushing furiously when he looked up and saw who had saved him from falling. It was the most famous and richest man in Gotham. Bruce Wayne looked back down at Jonathan, smiling slightly. "Can't say I've seen you around before," he said.

"No, I just moved here, but of course I know who you are!" replied Jonathan.

"How do you like Gotham?"

"Oh it's nice. People are very friendly, I _love_ the shops!"

"Well Gotham's not all glitz and glamour you know."

"I know. Crime and dirty dealings behind closed doors? I was actually mugged last night, but I was saved."

"Really?" Now Bruce began to look interested. "Who saved you?"

"I didn't see his face. It was the masked vigilante I see all over the news," Jonathan pretended to forget: "Umm…the Batman do you call him?"

"We do. Where did you move from?"

"Not far from here actually. I had a little house just past the outskirts."

"No wonder you moved! Living next to an insane asylum?"

"Yes, I did hear some things in the nights, poor souls."

"They deserve to be in there."

"Ah, but do they M0. Wayne? A lot of them are just scared I think. Lost souls like myself perhaps? I used to know the man who ran Arkham. Before he was locked up himself, I mean. He seemed…all right. He knew what he was doing it seemed. But the Batman got him too."

"Lost souls like you?"

"Well, I don't really know anybody here. I've only just got a job. I need to sort things out…it's…complicated."

"You know me."

"Not very well Mr. Wayne."

"I hope you'll get to know me better. I'd certainly like to get to know _you._ Would you like to get something to eat?"

"I'd love to!" Bruce Wayne smiled and led Jonathan to a quiet restaurant. They sat at a table and ordered some food. "Now, I at least need to know your name."

"Jennifer. Jennifer Heron is my name. I'm twenty six and I work as a shop assistant. My parents are dead; they died when I was little."

"Well, mine too I'm afraid, Jenny. Oh, by the way, I don't go for all that formality, I'm just Bruce okay?"

"Okay," replied Jonathan, smiling a shiny smile and batting his eyelids. He checked his watch. "Oh _no_!" he wailed. "I'm going to be _late_! I'm sorry Mr. Wayne, Bruce, I really must go!"

"Not yet. At least give me your number! I'd really like to see you again." Jonathan gave him the number, and decided to be reckless, kissing Bruce on the cheek and dashing away.

When he got back to work, he cursed himself. What was he thinking, going out with another man like that?! He loved the Joker, he knew he did, no doubt, but he wanted to be naughty. The part of his mind he didn't want to listen to, but knew he really should, told him off. What would Bruce say when he found out his beautiful new woman was actually a man, and an escaped convict at that?! Then the recurring thought: what would the _Joker_ do? Jonathan forced the thoughts out of his mind again, and worked hard for the rest of the day. When his shift finished, he said goodbye to his workmates, and began the short walk home. He ducked into the nearest alleyway, and took his skirt and blouse off, removing also the bra, makeup and wig, and pulled on the jeans and t shirt he had bought. He was still wearing the women's knickers though.

Jonathan let himself in the front door, calling "Hello? Joker?" as he came in.  
"Up here!" came the reply. Jonathan ran upstairs into the shared bedroom, which seemed to be the main room of the house for them. He smiled slightly when he saw his lover, who got up from where he was sat, and gently pinned Jonathan against the doorframe. "I missed you today."

"Missed you too Joker, but I've got a job now, I'll have to go out every day. Well, except weekends."

"I'll have to go out on a night, Johnny, you know what I do. Except I don't get paid." Jonathan nodded, sliding his skinny arms around the Joker, softly kissing his lips. The Joker began to gently rub Jonathan's hips, and the now fading bruises all over his body. He pulled Jonathan's t shirt off, and his fingers scrabbled for the belt, but Jonathan grabbed the Joker's wrists. "Please," he whispered, "I'm tired." Still kissing the Joker, Jonathan allowed him to stroke his chest and arms, but stopping him going below the waist. He loved the Joker, but he truly didn't want to go through the hurt and throbbing pains the morning after it cost him to let the Joker have a few minutes of pleasure. At least not today. The Joker broke away slightly angrily when Jonathan stopped his wandering hands for the fifth time. "I'm sorry Joker," Jonathan whispered, settling with a book on their bed, the covers wrapped around him to keep out the cold. Later, the Joker announced he was going out, and he wouldn't be back until morning, so Jonathan should get some sleep.

Their lives went on like this for another two weeks, Jonathan going out to work, as a woman, each day, meeting Bruce Wayne most lunchtimes, the Joker going out by night, meeting the Batman most times.

One evening, Jonathan came up to the bedroom, and the Joker, as usual, started the kissing, and wandering, and Jonathan shrugged him off again. "Oh for the love of- Jonathan! Why are you like this now? We haven't done anything for ages. Not only that, you're completely useless! You don't help me, just go out every day, life isn't all about _you_ Jonathan! You're nobody, and without me you'd still be in Arkham!" Jonathan sat down hard on the edge of their bed, looking at his knees, his view fuzzy as tears clouded his vision. "Oh Jonathan," the Joker's voice was much softer now, "I didn't mean that." A tear dropped onto Jonathan's leg, leaving a dark blotch on his jeans. The Joker sat next to Jonathan, putting an arm around his thin shoulders. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Jonathan said nothing, but laid his head on the Joker's shoulder, tears spilling freely from his eyes now he wasn't trying to hold them back. The Joker pulled Jonathan onto his lap, like a small child, and held him. Jonathan buried his head in the Joker's shirt. "No, _I'm_ sorry," he sobbed, "I've been so selfish, wrapped up in my own world, I almost forgot about you..." he couldn't carry on. Jonathan still held the guilt of his transvestism inside, but he was beginning to realise that _this_ was who he was. He was a man; the woman persona he held was because he felt he was no fun as Jonathan Crane. He realised he just needed to lighten up a bit. Have fun, make friends. He just wasn't ready to give up being a woman _just_ yet.

The Joker gently wiped Jonathan's eyes, and they both lay down together on their bed, Jonathan softly kissing the Joker again, this time not stopping the Joker's hands as they undressed him, his own hands fumbling with the buttons on the Joker's shirt, sliding over the Joker's stomach, and down, pulling the Joker close to him, his cold hands just under the waistband of the Joker's underwear, the Joker's chest against his own. Pressed together they kissed, Jonathan's breathing hitching first, the Joker's soon after as their skin touched together, legs entwined, Jonathan taking his hands from the Joker's waist and sliding up and down his back, tracing the muscles, the Joker jumping slightly as he felt Jonathan's icy fingers. The Joker turned Jonathan over quickly, pulled him to his hands and knees and did quickly what Jonathan hated; the sharp pain jerked Jonathan's body, and the Joker had a fondness for grabbing Jonathan's hair, his nails digging right into the scalp. When it was over, the Joker let Jonathan lay on top of him, resting his head on his chest, the Joker putting his chin on the top of Jonathan's head. "Why won't you let me do that to you Joker?" asked Jonathan, slightly miserably. "Why do you always have to be on top?" The Joker didn't answer, but it was unspoken between them that he was in charge. He was bigger, stronger, as clever as Jonathan, but more devious, and it was the Joker who had broken Jonathan out of his cell, and let him live in his house.

Jonathan fell asleep soon afterwards, and the Joker left without waking him up. Jonathan was only woken when his mobile phone started ringing. He didn't know anybody in Gotham as Jonathan, so when he answered, his voice was raised an octave. "Hello?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Hi Jenny, it's Bruce."

"Bruce! Wha…Why are you calling me now?"

"It's only eight o clock you know. Not too late. I forgot to ask you if you wanted to come over tonight? You can stay in one of the spare rooms."

"Oh I'd love to Bruce! See you in an hour?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Bye then!"

"Oh…Bye." Jonathan put the phone down, his cheeks pink. He was being asked out on a date! He ran to the stash of clothes downstairs and put on his red evening gown he had been dying to wear. Jonathan placed the blonde wig over his own hair again, and carefully applied makeup and nail varnish. He flounced out of the house, tossing his curls and wiggling his hips, as he trotted for the tube that would take him to within five minutes of Wayne Manor. When he got off the tube and arrived at the gates of Wayne Manor, the nagging little part of his mind started up again. He ignored it as usual, and pressed the speaker button so Bruce Wayne would let him in. He got to the door, which was opened by Bruce himself, and he was led to a small, warm room with a little table set for two. He sat demurely on the offered chair, and began his date.

The two men talked together, about everything, the state of Gotham, favourite films, the dinner, Bruce's house. When they had finished eating, Bruce got up and put some music on, gently pulling Jonathan's wrist, so he stood up, then pulling him forwards so they were standing close. Jonathan put his hands on Bruce's shoulders, and Bruce put his hands on Jonathan's waist. Together they swayed, turning slightly to the music. The song finished and Bruce gently kissed Jonathan on the lips. "I've wanted to do that since I first met you Jennifer," he whispered.

"Oh Bruce," sighed Jonathan, "I don't think it will be easy…" he began, looking for the right words, finally seeing a little sense, unwillingly listening to the part of his mind that had warned him all along.

"I know, I know Jenny. But I like you a lot."

"My life is…complicated. I…have things that…well if you found out certain things about me; you might not be so keen…"

"I'll take whatever you can throw. I have a few secrets myself. We'll get to know each other. Together."

"I…oh…I don't know…" Bruce silenced him with another kiss. Jonathan responded this time, wrapping his arms around Bruce, wrapping one of his legs catlike around one of Bruce's.

"Oh Jenny," Bruce put his hands on Jonathan's bra, seeming satisfied with the gel inserts he had put inside. It was when his hands moved around to Jonathan's back, looking for the strap that Jonathan had to stop him. "No. I'm sorry. I can't."

"No one will see us, don't worry,"

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I…I don't want to get too involved. Not now. It's only out first official date."

"I understand."  
"I don't mean to disappoint you." They danced on a little while, kissing still, but nothing more.

"I'm getting a little tired Bruce," complained Jonathan. "It's so late." Bruce picked Jonathan up, bridal style and reminded him that he was staying there tonight. Jonathan giggled, not liking how this was turning out after all. He didn't really like Bruce Wayne all that much; found him a little boring if anything and he wanted to be back home with the Joker. As Jonathan. He could tell Bruce only liked him because he was pretty.

There was a loud noise and Jonathan hit the floor hard, laddering his tights, and getting small cuts from the glass shards that flew at him as the windows were blown in. His head hurt and he was dazed. A familiar voice floated into his ears, giggling and threatening. Bruce Wayne was nowhere to be seen. He felt himself being yanked from the floor, tights ripping more, shoes snapping and falling from his feet. "Pretty little thing you've got now Batman," growled the voice. "Since I blew up your last one I figured you'd turned. Drinking out of both taps if you know what I mean," he laughed at his own joke. Jonathan looked up at the man who held his wrist. He gasped in shock when he saw it was his own lover, looking different beneath the make up, wearing an expression Jonathan had never seen before. The Joker's face was a mixture of hate, amusement and a far away look that showed he probably deserved to be in Arkham. _Batman?_ So that was the secret Bruce Wayne had talked about briefly earlier. It didn't matter now though. Jonathan felt tears prick his eyes, and furiously held them back, the Joker sensing his effort, and throwing an arm around his shoulders instead, clamping Jonathan close to his body so he couldn't escape. "Don't be scared beautiful. I'm not going to hurt you. Much." the Joker burst into fits of laughter again.

Two of the Joker's men crept up behind Batman while he stood still, worried about his date. They snapped metal handcuffs around his wrists, and pushed him onto the floor, chaining him to the wall. "Now," the Joker crooned. "Let's get down to business." He pulled Jonathan as Bruce had done, swaying to the music that had been left on. Jonathan was saddened when he thought he could easily have done this with the Joker, if he had only asked. Through his fear, he enjoyed being with the Joker, feeling the spark between them, the way Joker made him feel anyway. "If I didn't already have a boyfriend, I'd have you, precious," he giggled into Jonathan's ear. Jonathan just nodded, still cursing himself, feeling his heart sink. The Joker suddenly grinned wider, and pulled Jonathan to his mouth, the mouth Jonathan knew how to kiss, wanted to kiss. He allowed himself to take part a little as the Joker moved his lips lightly but sincerely over Jonathan's. "Nice squeeze," he shouted in Bruce's direction in a sickly sweet voice. Instead of groping for the bra, as Bruce had done, the Joker lifted the skirt of Jonathan's evening gown, caressing his thigh, sliding his soft fingers into the knickers Jonathan wore, smiling a little at what he discovered. "I wonder if you knew about _this_ batty," he laughed. Bruce looked confused under his mask. The Joker turned Jonathan to face Batman,undoing the strap of Jonathan's bra quickly, letting it fall off with the gel pads in it. Bruce Wayne's eyes widened, and he looked hurt. Then the Joker pushed Jonathan over, lifting the skirt of the gown up to his waist and shoving the knickers down. Jonathan struggled again, the Joker laughing and undoing his belt. Jonathan braced himself, and tried to enjoy it, still feeling the spark between them, making the little noises he always did when the Joker entered him roughly. However, he couldn't enjoy it. It hurt more this time, the Joker used no lubrication, gripping Jonathan's hair, Jonathan hopelessly succumbing, letting the tears fall, not caring if they ever stopped now, not caring what the Joker thought. The Joker pulled his hair too roughly, and the wig came off, exposing Jonathan's dark hair underneath. The Joker dropped the mop of blonde curls, and buried his hands into Jonathan's real hair, still not recognising him, not until he yanked Jonathan's head back, and looked into the tortured, mascara streaked face, the make up washed away, the blue eyes clarified behind the thin veil of salt water.

The shock on the Joker's face was evident, when he paused for a moment, but carried on, hopeless to stop; he couldn't back down now, not in front of the enemy. However, he didn't laugh or say anything more until he had finished. Jonathan collapsed into a sobbing pile on the floor, bothering only to pull his knickers back up, and sort out his dress. "So…sorry…" he moaned over and over. This time it was the Joker who lifted him bridal style and carried him out of the building, jumping out of the window on a wire, and running the dark alleyways home. All Jonathan could do was wrap his arms around the Joker's neck and attempt to stop shaking. When they got in, the Joker dropped Jonathan on to their bed, and looked at him, hurt showing in his eyes.

"Why, Johnny? Why?"


	4. Break ups and Make Up

Jonathan Crane looked up at his lover through tears, and was met with a murderous and hurt stare. "Why Johnny? Why did you do it?" Jonathan hung his head again, and continued to let his tears fall on to the bed they shared. He felt the Joker grab his hair, and he pulled Jonathan up. "Why?" he was shouting now. "I'm not good enough for you hm? Bruce Wayne has all the _money?_ You're just a stupid screwed up little faggot? What is it Johnny?"

"I…I don't know," Jonathan stammered.

"Oh get a _grip_ you sad, pathetic, whining…" Joker continued shouting words like this at Jonathan, tugging on his hair with each word.

"_Please!_ Joker, please stop it, you're hurting me!"

"Hurting _you?!_" I've been cheated on, lied to, hell, my fucking boyfriend's been dressing like a woman for the past two weeks, _behind my back_ and it's hurting _**you?**_"

"J…Joker I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it to go so far!"

"Why did you do it in the first place? You disguised yourself once, so you wouldn't get caught! Why carry on when you could go out as yourself?!"

"I…I felt. Oh it's hard to explain…" Jonathan had stopped crying now, but inside he felt himself breaking. _You knew it would come to this,_ something said in his mind. _Tell the truth at last. He deserves it. _He took a deep breath. "Joker, please," he began, his voice calm now. "Hear me out. I dressed as a woman, like you asked me to. But I felt _different_ when I did. I wasn't boring, serious Jonathan Crane, I was fun loving, sexy Jennifer Heron. I was accepted. People noticed me. I was _fun_. I was offered a job. I could dress in pretty clothes. I was someone else! I could live another life and not _fuck_ it up, like I did with mine." Jonathan broke off and almost started crying again, but pulled himself together again. "I knew it wouldn't last forever. When Bruce Wayne asked me to lunch I took the opportunity while I could. I met him for lunch, and lunch _only_ until tonight I swear. I didn't like how it was turning out anyway, he was really boring, and only wanted me for my body. Joker I only want you. Honestly. I…I _love_ you…" He looked up into the Joker's face, to show he meant it, and saw the Joker's face soften. The hurt still showed in his eyes. "Now I just want to be Jonathan Crane again. Joker, I love the way you wipe my tears away. Hold me. I love the way you kiss. I-"

"Don't. Jonathan don't." The Joker growled, silencing him. Jonathan was taken aback.

"Oh…okay," he said, a little sadly. Inside he felt himself break a little more. Now was the time he wanted to be held most, but it wasn't going to happen. "Oh Joker. Bruce and I _danced_ you and I danced! Then I realised we could have anyway if only I'd asked you. I'm so sorry. I truly didn't mean to hurt you. I was so selfish."

"Well the fact is, you _did_ hurt me. More than you could ever know." The Joker sighed. Then his voice grew angry again. "You _lied._ I could have _helped_ you. You're just a selfish little bastard!" he yelled, punching Jonathan in the face in his uncontrollable hurt and rage. Jonathan fell off the edge of the bed from the force of it, blood erupting from his lip. "Joker?!" he squealed in panic.

"That's right. You can scream and cry all you want Johnny, but nobody cares. Not even me, not any more. Go back to your precious _Wayne_," The Joker held up Jonathan against the wall, almost strangling him. The Joker dropped him to the floor. "Now get out. Out of my sight, out of my flat, just get out!" Jonathan grabbed some clothes and ran out into the street in terror, still wearing his red evening gown. He had seen Joker angry before, but not like this. The Joker had never hit him before. Physically, the Joker hurt him more when they made love, but the sharp sting hurt Jonathan more deeply. The ties were severed. It was over. Jonathan sat down on the pavement where he was, the words ringing in his ears. _It was over._ He was numb. Finally he stood up, put on the jeans and shirt he'd grabbed, and half stumbled to his own flat, on the other side of Gotham.

The key was there, where he'd left it last year, under the mat. He let himself in, surrounded himself with the familiar settings. He flopped down on his sofa, dangling his arms to the floor, not really registering anything, apart from an emptiness; in his house, in himself. Sleep took him. He woke much later, reaching to put his arms around the Joker, finding nothing, and remembering. "Oh Jonathan, you _fool!_" he shouted to himself, the sound echoing around the empty flat. He sighed, hopelessly. Jonathan looked at the clock. He was late for work. Well, he would be if he even had a job any more. He realised he had to admit the truth to the shop he worked in. He dragged himself from the sofa and wandered all the way to the makeup shop on the other side of town. He opened the door, and the young girl, Pippa smiled at him, not recognising him as a man. "Hello. Can I help you?" Jonathan took a deep breath.

"Look, Pippa," the girl's smile faded a little. "It's _me_. Jennifer. Except this is who I really am. I'm really Jonathan Crane. And obviously, I'm not a woman. I came to say sorry. And to ask…no _beg_ you to let me keep my job. Please?" Pippa was speechless.

"Well…okay. That's a little…strange. But stranger things happen, especially in Gotham. You're a great worker um…Jonathan. I guess you can keep your job."

"Oh thank you! Thank you so much!"

"You'd better get to work then. I'll overlook your lateness today, but don't let it happen again." Jonathan laughed, and tried to forget about what had happened, working like he always did; smiling at customers, but still feeling himself breaking inside. There was a subconscious realisation that there would be no Joker waiting at home for him, no one would pin him against the wall and kiss him, no one would undo the fastenings on his clothes. No one would touch him.

Jonathan decided to go back to the Joker's flat, even if he knew the Joker wouldn't want him back. He needed to pick up some more clothes anyway, and at least apologize to the Joker. He could _try_. After work he traced the familiar path to the house, looking for the key in the plant pot, where the Joker had first put it. There was nothing there; the Joker had obviously moved it so Jonathan couldn't come back in. Jonathan had no choice but to knock on the door. He knocked and waited. Knocked again. Waited. Finally he heard footsteps, and the door opened a crack. Jonathan was once again looking into half the painted face of his soul mate. "I thought you'd be back. Clothes?" Jonathan nodded. "Wait here."

"Can't I come in? I want to talk to you,"

"There's nothing to say Jonathan. It's over. Or hadn't you worked that out?" The Joker closed the door again, and Jonathan heard footsteps going up the creaky stairs. Two minutes later, he heard them coming down again, and the door opened, fully this time. The Joker was holding a pile of clothes. "These are yours. I got rid of the women's clothes." He almost threw them at Jonathan.

"Joker I…I just want to say I'm sorry again. I love you. I mean it."

"No. Jonathan don't. Just get on with your life. I might see you around, might not," was all the Joker said before slamming the door for good. Jonathan sighed, and walked home.

He let himself in, hung up his clothes and collapsed on the sofa, his head in his hands. What did he have to live for any more? No friends, no lover, no reason to go out apart from to work, in a monotonous job; selling make up all day. But he would go on living this life. Carry on with the job, try and meet somebody else. And it turned out that he did. Four months passed. Jonathan made some friends; people he worked with, people he met at parties thrown by his workmates. He had a few boyfriends, but they never lasted long, a month at most. He lived on one night stands, but they made him ashamed. He felt dirty. He tried to forget the Joker, but he was always on Jonathan's mind. He had started going out at night, looking for the Joker, but only ever seeing his face on the news. Jonathan had only seen the Joker's real face once, and he never forgot the handsome features. Inside, Jonathan was still broken, and every time he saw the Joker, who had obviously forgotten him by now, on the news, he felt himself break a little more.

One night, after drinking a whole bottle of vodka (and another of lemonade with it), he let himself think about the past. About what he and Joker had shared. What he had lost. And why. He broke completely. He couldn't go on. The idea scared him, but he decided: if he couldn't live with the Joker, he couldn't live at all. He was going to kill himself. He threw the empty glass bottle across the room, where it smashed into several hundred pieces. Jonathan let himself out of his flat, and climbed the stairs, to the second floor, to the top floor, to the roof, and stood out in the open air, shivering slightly in only a t shirt and his underwear. "Are you happy now Joker? Are you? I can't live any more. And you know it! I think you _always _knew it!" he shouted to nobody in particular, his voice sounding pathetic, even to himself, in the empty air. He shuddered and walked to the edge of the block of flats. It looked a long way down. He closed his eyes, and tried to force his legs to move. To step into the air, off the solid stone. He couldn't do it; he was too scared. He was even more disgusted at himself. He wasn't even good enough to kill himself. Jonathan didn't notice the figure coming from the shadows. He felt a hand on his back; another grabbed his wrist. The hands pushed him. He fell, but only a little. The other hand was still firmly around his wrist. Jonathan dangled from the edge of the building, one hand desperately scrabbling for something to hold on to, feet scrabbling at the stone, looking for a foot hold, to climb back up. Tears of fear began to course down his cheeks. "_Don't let me go!"_ he panicked at the stranger holding his wrist.

"No. I'm not happy Johnny," a voice floated down to him. "And I won't let you go. I already _made _you go."

"J…Joker?" Jonathan whispered in disbelief, still terrified.

"That's my name; don't wear it out," he replied, pulling Jonathan back up to the roof of the building, falling backwards when he pulled Jonathan over the top, the smaller man falling on top of him. Jonathan didn't get up, but held on to the Joker's shirt, sobbing now, out of fear, happiness to see his lover again, and sadness at the fact that the Joker would probably leave him again. To Jonathan's surprise, the Joker put his arms around Jonathan as well, pulling him into his chest, like he used to.

"Look at me." Jonathan looked up through tears, trying to blink them away. The Joker gently wiped Jonathan's cheeks with one slender finger. "Sh sh sh," he whispered.

"Oh Joker…" Jonathan cried harder.

"Come on Johnny," the Joker said gently. "Let's go inside; it's freezing up here." He pushed Jonathan off him, and helped him to stand up. He led Jonathan inside, pushing him onto his bed, and settling down next to him.

"I'm not dreaming am I? I did drink a lot. You're really here? You really held me?"

"Yes, I'm really here. You're a bad boy to drink so much Johnny; I saw the pieces of glass. A _whole_ bottle? We could have shared it!"

"I thought you'd never come back. I _need _you Joker. I really do." At this, Jonathan sat up, and pulled the Joker up too, kissing him lightly. When he was sure it really _was_ the Joker, he began to kiss him faster and more deeply. The Joker pushed him back onto the bed, kneeling above him, kissing back, gaining control. He finally broke away, but Jonathan pulled him back down, almost whimpering with desire and happiness. "Come here," he breathed urgently, raising his head a little to meet the Joker's mouth, almost biting in his hunger, holding on to the Joker, not letting him get away. He felt the scars against his own cheeks, and the Joker's hands sliding up his chest, underneath his t shirt. Jonathan quickly undid the buttons on the Joker's waistcoat and shirt, tearing them off urgently, letting his fingers move over the Joker's torso, almost scratching him. The Joker slid his hands into Jonathan's shorts and touched his erection gently, making Jonathan curl his toes and dig his fingers into the Joker's skin in pleasure. They both moved together, Jonathan whispering quickly "Oh Joker…I think I'm going to…" he came; over the tips of the Joker's fingers. The Joker took his hand from inside Jonathan's underwear and smiled, breaking from the kiss at last. He sat up and pulled Jonathan's top off, throwing it across the room, his own hard on growing. He turned Jonathan over, like he used to. Pushing Jonathan's underwear down, he entered Jonathan, quickly and roughly, using what was on his fingers, and a little spit, to help him. The Joker needed this as much as Jonathan, was as urgent and hungry as Jonathan was. He curled one arm around Jonathan's waist, still touching the other's erection. He laid across Jonathan's back, as Jonathan sat up slightly, and pushed himself deeper into Jonathan. Jonathan gasped, at the pain, at the pleasure, and came again. "You came twice? Good boy Johnny," Joker panted, throwing his head back as he came too.

He pulled away from Jonathan and flopped down on the bed, exhausted. Jonathan snuggled up next to him and began to gently kiss his chest. "One minute I'm a bad boy for drinking too much, then I'm a good boy for um…" he blushed. "Well, showing you what you do to me." Both men laughed. Jonathan's face grew serious again. "Joker, will you stay now? I honestly meant I can't live without you, I think you know that now. This isn't just a one night stand is it?"

"No Johnny." Jonathan's face fell. "It's not a one night stand. I need you too; I nearly went mad without you. I'm going to stay. If you can forgive me for being a complete bastard."

"You're forgiven. If you can forgive _me_ for lying and cheating and…" The Joker silenced Jonathan with a finger to his lips.

"You're forgiven silly, _I_ came back to _you!_" Jonathan rolled over and started kissing the Joker frantically again. The Joker kissed back, but they didn't go any further.

Jonathan sighed with pleasure at the kiss, but broke away after a couple of minutes, yawning, and curling up next to the Joker again, his breathing evening. The Joker smiled and whispered "I love you too Johnny," before falling asleep himself.


End file.
